


Never Again

by PeppDream (Pep_Pizza)



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Drowning, Gen, Hide and Seek, Hospitalization, Ice Cream, Lies and Deceit, Male Friendship, Mental Illness, Near Death Experiences, One Shot, Plot Twists, STOP READING TAGS NOW TO AVOID SPOILERS, Summer, Swearing, Tag, guess I won't write any more plot-spoiling tags then, just read the damn fic, no appearance of Bad to stop it tho :(, not happy ending, you didn't stop reading tags did you?, you're it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pep_Pizza/pseuds/PeppDream
Summary: George hasn't hung out with Dream in forever.But today, just for today, they have the day all to themselves. And George isn't going to let anyone, not even his stand-in chaperone Nick, get in the way of their fun.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 62





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> I've written many fics in this fandom by now, but this is my first one-shot :) I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (I'm not a doctor, so excuse any medical inaccuracies.)

“Hey George.”

“Oh no,” George groans, seeing the playful glint in Dream’s eyes. “What is it?”

“It’s _so_ hot,” his freckled friend grins, “Don’t you wish we could cool off?”

“Well, yes…” George frowns, wondering where Dream is going with this, until he sees where his friend is looking. “ _Dream_ , you’re joking.”

The blonde only laughs, already running towards the fountain in the middle of the plaza. “You can’t stop me, George~!”

“ _Dream_ ,” George hisses, hurrying after him, but his idiotic friend has already launched himself into the pool of water, laughing in delight as he splashes around with his legs.

“ _George_ , come join me! It feels so much cooler!”

George hesitates. “I-I dunno, I don’t want my clothes to get wet—”

“That’s the whole _point_ ,” Dream rolls his eyes, “Come _on_ George, live a little. See how much _fun_ I’m having in here~?”

George stands a little awkwardly, realizing that Dream _does_ look like he’s having fun. The center of the fountain shoots towards the sky, water particles creating fantastic little rainbows showering above Dream’s head. George supposes it _is_ kind of a hot day, and it’d be nice if he could take a quick dip…

“ _Fine_ ,” George grumbles, taking his shoes and socks off. Dream’s eyes shine brightly as George steps into the fountain after him. The water pools around his knees. Underfoot, he can feel little coins jabbing into his soles.

“ _Well?_ ” Dream laughs, pushing a harmless splash George’s way. “How is it?”

It feels… _good_. George splashes a bit more wildly with his legs, giggling at the sensation of cool water droplets on his skin. “This is cool,” he admits, creating a playful splash in Dream’s direction. His friend shrieks a little at the attack, retreating towards the center of the fountain, right next to the cascading water.

“ _George!_ ” Dream grumbles, jerking away from the waterfall. “My whole _back_ is _wet_ now—!”

George snorts. “ _Live a little!_ ” He mocks.

“GEORGE.”

George swerves at the call of his name. It’s Nick, looking both simultaneously annoyed and mortified. George gives a sheepish smile, realizing how ridiculous he must look. “Um, hi?”

“ _George_ ,” Nick grabs George’s sleeve, forcing him to step out of the fountain, “What are you _doing?_ ”

“Cooling off,” George answers easily.

“You should’ve joined us,” Dream inserts from behind him, “it’s really nice—”

“ _George_ ,” Nick hisses, cutting him off, “Do you not _see_ how many people are staring?”

George blinks, looks for the first time, realizes _oh_. A small, lingering crowd had begun to form around the fountain, mostly made up of concerned adults casting judgemental glances in his direction. George honestly hadn’t even noticed — he’d been having too much fun in the fountain to notice.

“Oops,” Dream comments unapologetically, sneakily getting out of the fountain himself.

“ _George_ ,” Nick sighs, “Have you taken your meds?”

“Yup,” George lies, scrambling to shake his feet dry and get his shoes back on. He doesn’t like the taste of the stupid medicine, and eating it usually makes him feel dizzy and awful afterwards, so. He sure as heck isn’t gonna give Nick the chance to tattle-tale on him. 

“Are you _sure?_ ” Nick persists, “What you just did was kind of…”

“It wasn’t _my_ idea,” George huffs, pointing an accusing finger at Dream. “Blame Dream.”

“What, _hey_ ,” Dream chuckles, “You’re as much at fault as I am—”

“Then stop _listening_ to him,” Nick facepalms. “George seriously… _Dream_ only has _bad ideas_. You should know this by now.”

“They’re not _always_ bad,” Dream defends, sounding miffed.

“Seconded,” George replies. “Only _most_ of them are pretty shit.” He laughs when Dream makes indignant noises in response.

Dream really _does_ have a lot of good ideas. He’s the adventurous kid that always comes up with fun challenges and exciting perils. Ever since George was a child, Dream has been tugging him along to do all sorts of dumb shit. 

Like that one time it was snowing outside and his parents wouldn’t let him play, so Dream got the idea for them to just sled down the stairs instead. George almost got a concussion from that. 

Or that one time Dream convinced George to jump off the diving board on the deep end of the pool. Except George wasn’t a very good swimmer, and the lifeguard had to come and save him from drowning.

Or that other time where Dream spotted a cat in a tree and had the idea to _rescue_ it and, of course George couldn’t let him go on his own. But compared to Dream, George was an exceptionally bad climber, and a single misstep had caused him to fall. The good news was, he landed on a lower branch and the overall distance fallen was shortened. The bad news was… well, let’s just say he landed somewhere that hurt like hell. 

He had to get stitches after that incident. And he _still_ doesn’t know what happened to that dumb cat, since apparently no one else but Dream and George had seen it.

Nick lets out another long sigh. “George, I don’t wanna say this but… I think you should head home.”

George blinks, feels his heart sink. “What?”

“If this is how you’re acting even _on_ meds, I’m worried,” Nick explains, helping George up from his sitting position. “I think we should take you back—”

“ _No_ ,” George instantly denies, “no, Nick, _please_. It’s _only_ been an half an hour.”

“And you’re _already_ … causing trouble!” Nick fires back. “George, I turn my back for _one second_ and you _disappear_ into a freaking _public fountain_ —”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” George punctuates, “But I’m just trying to have some _fun_ , Nick. You know I _never_ get to have any fun, _ever_. I just… please don’t send me home yet?”

Nick appears to be hesitating. “Will he listen to you?” Dream raises his eyebrow at George, but George ignores him. He’s waiting for Nick’s answer.

“... _okay_ ,” Nick eventually replies, and a smile lights up on George’s face. “ _But_. You have to _swear_ you won’t go running off again, okay?”

“Yup yup,” George nods, “Sure thing, Mr. Chaperone.”

Nick rolls his eyes, tugging George away from the plaza’s prying eyes. “Look, you know I don’t want to do this either. But it’s for your own safety man.”

George snorts. “I can take care of myself.”

“Then start _acting_ like it.”

George rolls his eyes. He knows Nick means well, and it’s not his friend’s fault that George needs to be kept an eye on, but he still wishes he wasn’t looked down on so much. George wasn’t a _child_. But despite that, everyone seemed intent on sheltering and separating him from the outside world.

“So,” Nick starts, “What do you want to do?”

“I dunno—” George starts to say, but he pauses when he sees Dream wiggle his eyebrows at him. “What?” 

“I have an idea,” Dream answers, and he scampers to George’s side and leans in towards his ear, whispering the idea in secret.

Nick just looks confused. “George?”

“Actually,” George corrects, feeling his heart beat excitedly at Dream’s suggestion, “I do have an idea.”

“Okay? What is it?”

“Hide-and-seek,” George grins.

Nick gives George a suspicious look. “...why?”

“We need to do it at the park,” George jumps on his toes, “You need to be the seeker — I know a _really_ good hiding spot there.” At Nick’s doubtful expression, George rolls his eyes. “Come _on_ , Nick. We can make boundaries or something, if you’re _sooo_ scared of me running off again.”

“...okay, I guess.”

“Yes!” Dream pumps his arms. “Let’s go, let’s go~!”

George runs after Dream, following him to a park just down the block. It’s a pretty large area and, though the center is mostly made up of grass, its edges are lined with large bushes and climbable trees that would make for good hiding places. Dream gets there first, followed by George, with Nick trailing in last. 

The younger has an amused smile on his face. “You’re _really_ excited, huh George?”

“It’s a really _good_ hiding place,” George insists. “You’re _never_ gonna find me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m _serious_ ,” George crosses his arms. “Do _not_ give up until you’ve searched for at _least_ twenty minutes.”

“I’m not gonna need _that_ long,” Nick snorts. “But whatever, fine. As long as you don’t run _outside_ of this park, okay?”

“Yeah yeah. And count to a minute,” George demands. “I need time to… prepare myself.”

“ _What_ ,” Nick huffs, “ _Prepare_ yourself? What is there to _prepare_ in hide-and-seek?”

“Don’t _question_ it,” Dream laughs.

“Go on,” George ushers with his hands, “Turn around, cover your eyes.”

Nick does as instructed, turning towards the trunk of a tree. “One…” he starts.

“Are your eyes closed?” George checks, slowly backing away.

“Two— _Yes_ , George, my eyes are _closed._ Three, four…”

George turns tail and flees, giggling as he runs away. He casts backward glances every once in a while, to make sure Nick is keeping his word and not looking. About half a minute later, and George has left the boundaries of the park, free from his chaperone.

“That worked, that _worked!_ ”

“YEEEESSS!” Dream woots next to George in a celebratory manner, laughing at their successful play. This was Dream’s idea all along; they never had any intention on playing the game with Nick in the first place.

“Let’s run a little farther,” George continues, “Just in case.”

The two of them sprint down another block or so before finally stopping to catch their breath. George feels exhilarated. This was _true_ freedom: no babysitter watching his every move, nobody to tell him _no_ , just him and Dream with his shitty ideas. George couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Welp,” Dream chuckles in-between gasps of air, “Looks like we’ve got ourselves twenty free minutes, before Nick starts coming to find us.”

George nods. “Right… twenty minutes. What should we do?”

“Ooh, ooh!” Dream points excitedly. “Ice-cream truck!”

George lights up at the sight of the brightly-colored vehicle. That was definitely a good, second alternative to cooling down. The two dash over, eyes excitedly roving over the menu. “Look at that one! It’s so _blue_.”

“ _George_ ,” Dream wheezes, “You _always_ pick the blue stuff—”

“So _what_ , they’re _good_ okay. What are you getting?”

“Hm…” he shrugs. “Rainbow one, I guess?”

“...Do you have money on you?”

Dream gives an all-too-knowing grin. “Love you, George~!”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible.” Nonetheless, George digs out his pocket money, turning towards the empty shop window. “Hello?” He calls out.

An older man pops out from behind the window, a welcome smile on his face. “Oh, hello! How may I help you today?”

George grins back. “Can I have a blue and rainbow popsicle, please?”

The man, looking mildly thoughtful hearing George’s request, nods quickly. He retreats into the vehicle, returning with two wrapped goods. George pays the appropriate amount and thanks him.

“Someone with you?” The man asks conversationally.

George shakes his head. “Just us — no supervision.”

“Oh.” He looks confused by the answer, but smiles nonetheless. “Well, I hope you enjoy your ice cream.”

“Yeah we will,” George grins, “Thank you. Have a nice day!”

A look of bewilderment passes over the man’s face, but George thinks he must’ve imagined it. He quickly tears his popsicle out of its wrapper, feeling excited just from the sight of the blue color. Popsicles give him nostalgic memories — of spending elementary school days sitting on metal bleachers, hands becoming sticky from melting ice.

“George?” Dream prompts pointedly, “You’re still holding my—”

“Nuh-uh-uh!” George retorts, skipping to a nearby trashcan to throw away the wrapper. “You _always_ do this. You need to promise you’ll pay me back this time.”

Dream grimaces. “George…”

“ _Promise me_.”

“I… I’ll _try_ to.”

George figures that’s as good of an answer as he’ll get. “Here,” he sighs, handing over the rainbow popsicle. “I already unwrapped it for you. You’re welcome.”

But Dream doesn’t take it straight away. “But George,” he asks, a cheeky grin splitting across his face, “what if I can’t pay you back?”

“ _Dream_ ,” George groans, plopping onto a nearby bench, “I already _bought_ it, okay. Just eat the stupid popsicle.”

But Dream still doesn’t take it. He only leans forward, giving the treat an experimental lick. “Mmm~”

 _What_. “ _Dream._ _Take_ it!”

“But it’s so much _easier_ for you to hold it for me,” his friend replies teasingly, sitting down next to him. “No dripping ice cream, no sticky hands, no mess to clean…”

George begrudgingly sucks on his own popsicle. The nice, cool flavor seeps onto his tongue and he feels a little more forgiving. “So, what, I’m your personal popsicle-holding stand now?”

Dream sucks on the rainbow popsicle in response and George sighs. He’ll take that as a yes. Dream can be incredibly stubborn at times with his stupid tendencies, and since George loses most of these arguments against his idiotic friend, George just lets him be this time around.

...Even if his arms are getting a little tired holding it up. George quickly finishes his own ice cream, to avoid the melting effect of waiting too long. Dream, on the other hand, has barely made _any_ progress. The popsicle sugar-water is dripping all over George’s hand, forming a small, brown puddle on the ground.

“ _George!_ How did you _eat_ that so _fast?_ ”

“You’re just eating _incredibly_ slow,” George retorts.

“Only ‘cause your _hand_ keeps _moving_ around,” his friend complains petulantly. “Stay _still_ , my personal popsicle-holding stand.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” George moans, finally feeling done with Dream’s attitude, “If you’re just gonna _complain_ about me holding it, then hold it _yourself_.”

George juts his hand forward, pressing it to Dream’s front to force him to take the popsicle. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Only, when Dream’s hands come up to his chest and George lets go of the popsicle, Dream doesn’t quite catch it in the suddenness of the moment. The popsicle stick topples from George’s grip and, with a single splat, the ice cream falls to the floor.

The two stare blankly at it for a moment before looking at each other. “Sorry—“ George starts to say.

At the same time Dream goes, “That was your fault.”

George pauses mid-sentence. “I retract my apology,” he corrects bluntly, trying to ignore the sad sight of the popsicle melting away on the concrete. “How was that _my_ fault?”

“...Personal popsicle-holding stands aren’t supposed to let go of the popsicles they’re holding?”

“You’re _ridiculous_ ,” George growls. “And wow, would you look at the time! It’s been _twenty minutes_. We spent all that time sitting here because you were taking your _sweet_ time eating one _stupid_ popsicle.”

Dream blinks innocently. “Well, it _was_ pretty sweet…”

“ _Dreaaaaam_ ,” George facepalms, and his friend only laughs. “Ugh. Okay, whatever, we don’t have time for this. We need to start heading back now.”

“We don’t _have_ to,” Dream offers.

George frowns. “But Nick…”

“He doesn’t know where we are,” Dream shrugs easily. “And, well, we weren’t able to do all that much, really. We could enjoy our freedom a little longer, right?”

“Hm…” George hesitates. He _knows_ dragging this out will only lead to more trouble for him in the end, but he also needs to consider the fact that, unlike Nick, Dream is _rarely_ free to hang out. Days like this were hard to come by, and George didn’t have the heart to end it early. “Okay,” he eventually says.

Dream beams. “I have an idea for another game.”

“Hm? What?”

Dream taps George’s shoulder pointedly. “Tag. You’re it!” And with a mad cackle, Dream goes dashing off.

“ _What?!_ DREAM.” And George goes chasing after his crazy friend, ignoring the strange stares other people are giving him as Dream chants Melanie Martinez lyrics. People _always_ look at him funny anyways, so George’s learned to filter them out with time.

“You’ll _never catch me_ , George~”

“It’s not _fair_ , you surprised me, I was off- _guard!_ ”

George chases him down to the end of the block. Because Dream is faster and several meters ahead of George, he has the choice to stop for a breather. And that’s exactly what he does at the corner of a traffic intersection, head turned towards the crosswalk. The walking signal is red.

So George is surprised, when Dream goes dashing right across, completely ignoring the light. And of course the idiot safely gets across. By the time George has reached the corner, cars have returned to swarming the intersection.

George slaps the pedestrian button, casting a desperate glance to the other side. Dream is sticking his tongue out at him. George is annoyed, his hands prickling with irritation.

He kind of really wants to cross the street now.

With no time to waste, George takes an experimental step forwards, only to jerk backwards as a car whizzes past right in front of him. _Right_ , that was stupid of him. He should’ve looked both ways first.

After doing just that, George takes the risk and runs. It had been hard to find an opening, so there are still many cars driving past him, if the strong rushing wind produced by a vehicle passing from directly behind was any proof of that. But George keeps going.

The sound of a blaring honk suddenly penetrates the air. George looks, sees a car barreling _straight towards him_ , feels himself trip from surprise—

And he topples onto the sidewalk in a heap, just as the aforementioned car barely misses him, driving away at the speed of sound. George groans as he picks himself up, his skin screaming in protest from where his hands and knees had brushed against the concrete.

“ _George!_ Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” George mumbles, getting up on shaky legs. That had been _so_ close. George thinks he may have seen his life flash before his eyes like, three times just now.

“I didn’t think you’d actually cross,” Dream admits, sounding guilty. “Sorry for—“

George interrupts him by mock-punching him. “Tag, you’re it.”

Dream blinks, then snickers. “ _George_ …”

“I win.”

“You—“ Dream just gives a gentle wheeze, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah yeah, you… you win.”

George is satisfied with that. “No more tag though. That was a stupid idea.”

“Wow,” Dream’s mouth drops open in mock betrayal. “George. I am so hurt you would think that.”

“It’s true.”

Dream just grins. “Maybe.”

“Should we go back to Nick now?” George wonders. Tripping over himself had given him less motivation to partake in any more physical activities.

“One last thing,” Dream suggests, “Let’s go to the bridge. I wanna see the water.”

“Why?”

“No particular reason.”

Dream is also very driven by whims, so George isn’t surprised. It’s how he comes up with all his stupid ideas, after all. And since hanging out with Dream is such a rarity in itself, George supposes he can spoil his friend a little. (It also helps that he’s not exactly keen on surrendering his freedom to Nick just yet either.) “Let’s go then, I guess. It’s our last stop though.”

“Our last stop,” Dream agrees, nodding.

The bridge Dream wants to go to is no small thing, a giant structure suspended by thick metal and hundreds of cords and cables. Despite its great length, it’s crossable by both vehicle and pedestrian. Some idle talk and a couple blocks later (where George made sure to only cross streets when the pedestrian light was on), and they’ve reached their destination. 

“Well, we’re here now,” George states the obvious.

“Let’s walk to the middle,” Dream insists, already heading down the walkway. 

George listens, though not without complaint. “Why? It’s gonna take _forever_ just to walk halfway down this thing.”

“Trust me George, the view will be better there.”

Still befuddled by Dream’s reasoning, George cluelessly follows. He peers over the rail a couple times, staring at the opaque water over the edge. It’s pretty, sure, but he can’t imagine it looking all that much different from the center of the bridge compared to where he’s standing now.

George snaps out of his pondering, when he realizes Dream has disappeared from his side. “Dr—? _Oh my god_ , _DREAM!_ ”

His friend had climbed onto the railing and was taking rapid steps across it, like a fucking tight-rope walker performing a perilous gymnast act. 

“Hm? What is it?”

“ _Dream_ ,” George feels frozen, hardly believing the outright _stupidity_ of his friend. There aren’t any other people around right now, but George knows Dream’s shenanigans would _definitely_ cause a fuss if someone saw him. “Get _off_ , Dream, don’t _do_ that!”

His friend only wheezes, like George is telling a funny joke. “Why not?” he asks, sounding confident as ever. He bends his knees and George thinks ( _hopes_ ) Dream will listen and hop back onto the walkway, but he only swings his legs over the rails, leaving them dangling over empty air.

“ _Dream_ …” George continues cautiously, not wanting to touch his friend, in case it sends him toppling over the edge, “That’s _dangerous_.”

“Well I’m fine, aren’t I?” Dream huffs, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of his eyes. “Come on George, join me! It’s safe, I promise~”

“How can _that_ ,” George gestures wildly at the murky water, “Be considered _safe?_ ”

“If you have control over the situation,” Dream answers easily, “and full control over yourself, while keeping your hands firmly on the rail… you’ll be fine!”

George is doubtful. The rail-bar isn’t all that wide — about only three inches across. Was that enough space to seat his entire behind? “I dunno…”

“ _Come on_ …” Dream grins, pats the flat part of the railing next to him. “Sit next to me?”

George hesitates. If he thinks about it, why is he out here anyway? To be a coward and not take chances? George hasn’t explored, or challenged himself, or done anything crazy in _forever_ , only stuck at home trying to find different ways to amuse himself. Now he has freedom, and he’s not gonna even use it?

“...I’m gonna kill you if I die.” With a shaky breath, George swings his leg over the rail. Dream lights up next to him, giving him reassuring praises as George steadies himself on the rail. His arms are shaky, but Dream was right: so long as he has control over his body, he’s not gonna be falling anytime soon.

“See?” Dream grins. “Easy, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” George lets out a breath, looking at the horizon to avoid the sight of the gigantic drop underneath him. He’s surprised, because it _does_ look different. The sun is starting to set, and it’s casting a weird yellow glow onto the water. “It’s not bad.”

Dream whistles triumphantly. “Told you not all my ideas are bad.”

George gives a small smile at that, and he can feel himself relaxing as he enjoys the scene before him. Sounds of busy cars whiz by behind them as background noise. Little puffs of wind blow across George’s face, causing tufts of his hair to float up and down. It’s doing the same thing to Dream, if Dream’s annoyed cries about hair getting in his eyes is anything to go by. 

“Just get a haircut,” George snorts. The length of Dream’s hair has never seemed to change in all the times George has seen him, and Dream never wastes an opportunity to complain about it. George half wonders why he even bothers to keep it at that length if he hates it so much.

“Nah,” Dream retorts, settling for sacrificing one of his hands to cover his forehead. “I can’t anyway.”

George frowns. “What do you mean, you _can’t_ —?”

“ _GEORGE!_ ”

At the sound of Nick’s voice, George whips his head around so fast he almost breaks his neck. “ _Shit_ ,” George stutters, scrambling to crawl back to the safe side of the rail, “Nick’s here, fuck, he’s gonna be so mad—”

In his haste, George lost control. He loses his footing, his shoe slipping on the surface of the rail, and George’s mind goes _blank_. 

Nick’s panicked scream pierces through the air. “ _NO_ , GEORGE!”

Everything happens in slow motion. George is falling backwards, his arms scrabbling over empty air to hold onto something, _anything_ , and Dream’s eyes widen and he leaps forward, extending his arm towards George. Their hands are right next to each other. George feels a short bubble of relief — he could make it.

Their fingers phase through one another.

And with Dream’s anguished face as the last thing he sees, George proceeds to plummet to his doom.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Nick apologizes, head buried in his hands, “I’m so sorry, it’s _all my fault_ , I didn’t watch over him well enough, it’s my fault he was put in danger, I know I shouldn’t have listened to him, I’m _so sorry_ , _I—_ ”

“Nick,” George’s mother places a placating hand on his shoulder. “It’s… it’s not your fault.”

“But it _is_ ,” Nick shoots back, feeling the edges of his eyes well up with tears, “You _trusted_ me to take care of him, and I _let him go_. It’s _all my fault_ , I…” He hangs his head, guilt-ridden with shame. Nick _knows_ there’s nothing he can say to excuse the fault of his actions. “I’ll take full responsibility for this. There’s no one for me to blame but myself—”

“He’s right,” George’s father appears at the mother’s side, his arms crossed in a very disappointed sort of way. “We told him to watch over George, and he didn’t.”

“They’re both just _teenagers_ , honey. We have to be more understanding—”

“And _one of them_ is schizophrenic!” The father bellows, gesturing angrily with his arm. “What is there to _understand_ about that?! They _knew_ they had to be careful, and this _still_ happened.”

George’s mother looks… sad. “George rarely ever gets to leave the house, I just thought…”

“You thought _wrong_ ,” the father snaps. “This is ridiculous. You’re telling me _this_ is the result of letting our kid go hang out with his friends? We _never_ should’ve agreed to let them go off on their own.”

The argument is interrupted, when a nurse steps into the lobby. “Guardians of George?” she prompts.

“Yes,” George’s father replies gruffly.

“How is he?” Nick asks weakly.

“In stable condition,” the nurse replies, and everyone lets out a collective breath of relief. “Though he was near-death. Unfortunately, the fall has induced extreme trauma, and several of his bones are broken,” she lists, flipping through the papers on her clipboard, “He’s additionally swallowed a lot of water, diagnosed with hypoxia, and is undergoing some effects of hypothermia.”

Nick feels himself choke on his own breath. “Then—?”

“However. George was very lucky. Because he collided with the water feet-first, the damage from the collision with the water was lessened, and we’ve successfully resuscitated him. His quick delivery to the emergency room also gave us enough time to restore the supply of oxygen to his brain, as well as regulate the levels of oxygen in his blood and get his body back to a proper temperature. He’s going to be fine. The damage is severe, but not irreparable. You don’t need to worry.”

Nick feels like collapsing from relief. _Thank god_ , he thinks. _George is okay. George was going to live._

“Can we see him?” George’s mother asks worriedly.

The nurse pauses thoughtfully. “He is awake,” she eventually answers, “But the doctors are very busy, and it isn’t wise to see him right now. Would you be alright with waiting thirty more minutes?”

Nick feels himself frown. He wants to see George with his own eyes, make sure his friend is _really_ alive. “Why can’t we just—”

“ _Nick_ ,” George’s father stops him with a warning tone, and Nick shuts up. Neither of George’s parents look happy about it, but they nod nonetheless. “We’ll wait,” the father corrects for Nick’s sake.

“Oh, alright,” the nurse raises her eyebrow, turning curiously to Nick. “Your name is Nick?”

Nick is confused by the question. “Um, yeah?” 

“Sorry,” she gives an apologetic smile. “Wrong person. It’s… the patient keeps asking for someone named Dream, and I just assumed it was you—”

“ _Him_ ,” the father suddenly growls, “Not _him_ , _again…!_ ”

Nick feels his insides shrivel up with guilt. He _knows_ he should’ve sent George home, the moment George mentioned his imaginary friend, but Nick just didn’t have the heart to. And when he found out he’d been tricked, Nick then had the _audacity_ to get angry at George, when it was completely his own fault for getting tricked. This was what Nick got for breaking the rules, for not _listening_ to his parent’s instructions, for underestimating George’s illness, for not doing what was right. And now George was hurt, and Nick wishes he could blame it on Dream, but Nick knows who’s really to blame.

It was 100% all Nick’s fault.

“It’s _always_ him!” The father is still shouting, not _at_ anyone, but still shouting nonetheless. “That stupid _Dream_ always putting our son in danger and planting idiotic ideas into his head!”

“ _Honey!_ ”

A look of understanding crosses the nurse’s features. “George is currently under medication, so you don’t need to worry. Any positive symptoms of his schizophrenia will be under control.”

The father collapses into a chair, burying his head into his hands. “That ridiculous imaginary friend of his…” he grumbles, still clearly upset about the whole thing. George’s mother places a reassuring hand on his back, and the nurse takes that as her cue to leave, returning to the room holding George hostage.

Nick really wants to follow. Standing here next to George’s parents, Nick feels awkward and out of place. He can’t stand the waiting, the wondering, the guilt festering inside his gut. He wants to see George, needs to ask him to forgive him, for not being a better friend, for letting him run off when Nick promised he’d keep him safe.

But Nick can’t. Not yet. So he finds himself a chair and settles for waiting, preparing the words of apology he’ll have to use when he sees George again. This time had been too close. Never again, will Nick underestimate the full capacity of George’s terrifying mental illness. Never again, will Nick let George go like that, let him be swept away with the fantasies of an imaginary friend in some fake, twisted reality.

Never again.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you enjoy? haha~ consider checking out some of my other fics, or following me on [tumblr](https://peppdream.tumblr.com/)! Thanks so much for reading <3


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